


Color-Coded Speak, Force The Right Words Out

by InkfaceFahz



Series: Tangled Circuits, Tangled Minds [3]
Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Alternate Universe - Robots & Androids, Breather Chapter, Gen, Near Future, Negotiations, Postsociety
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-05
Updated: 2019-07-05
Packaged: 2020-06-12 09:40:42
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,557
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19567462
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/InkfaceFahz/pseuds/InkfaceFahz
Summary: When you're not a fighter by nature, negotiation is your first line of defense, leverage, and how to rise up in what the world had become. Moniwa's survival has hinged primarily off his usefulness and general disinterest in growing too tangled in conflicts among others. But he still has dealings, bargains, and involvements that are never as simple as he'd like, especially with the opportunities afforded to him by the data and experience acquired from his most recent dealings with the Crows. Time to handle some business.





	Color-Coded Speak, Force The Right Words Out

**Author's Note:**

> A bit of a gap story, a little break from the intensity of part 2.

**_P2P SECURE CHANNEL_ **

**_RECIPIENT: Kaname$DATE712#6_ **

**_You’re usually straightforward about information you’re dealing. Do I have to come to you?_ **

**_PS -- Those two are still off the radar. Nobody’s brought even a rumor. If they show, they show._ **

**_P2P SECURE CHANNEL_ **

**_RECIPIENT Keiji$FUKURO454#41_ **

**_No, the Wall’s had too much happening as of late. Neutral grounds?_ **

**_RE postscript -- I’m sure someone knows._ **

**_P2P SECURE CHANNEL_ **

**_RECIPIENT: Kaname$DATE712#6_ **

**_All right. One escort. I will bring an administrator to transfer payment. The parts can be sorted another day._ **

**_PS -- That would be them. So far, it is not us._ **

**_P2P_ **

**_RECIPIENT Keiji$FUKURO454#41_ **

**_I’ll be on my own next to the grove in the Foxes zone. I doubt you mind stairs._ **

**_Willing to negotiate having stray Cats collect parts for you if desired. Discuss that another day._ **

**_RE postscript -- Admitting a lack of knowledge is an_ ** **unusual** **_technique for an information broker._ **

“No escort is a bold decision, Moniwa-san.” They stood on cobblestone, very old next to even the Garbage Heap’s deepest buried contents, as was the gate, and deteriorating symbols this was once a shrine to something. The immediate area around it was treated more like a residential, commercial area, repairs made to structures of indeterminate date, so even outside it was relatively more peaceful than where factions fighting for resources planted their flags. The mediators -- who enforced the neutrality -- each took positions around the grounds as monitors, to ensure no duels, faction wars, or assassinations occurred. It was, on a practical level, necessary, considering how hot-headed and aggressive some rivalries got that nonetheless needed a space for truces. Those who appreciated their presence called them Guardians. Those who didn't referred to them as vermin.

“I have other business here,” he said, not elaborating. “The fewer people aware of this matter, the better.” In truth, his standard escort to more populous areas was Aone, and Aone’s emotional subroutine had been distressed. Moniwa was concerned the lie he coached Shouyou on that convinced the other Crows of regarding his arm -- that in such an unfamiliar place the youth simply made a _mistake_ , instead of the truth of being taught a _lesson,_ did not convince his own construct. The only other with presence and power was Wakatoshi, who was simply too new, and Moniwa was paranoid about the Band seeing their dead leader walking about to bring him anywhere but the wastes.

“You look well,” he said, inspecting the lithe but muscular android accompanied by a woman in white and gold, another information broker. Yuko? Yukie? One of those. Bored as she sounded, Moniwa tended to prefer her to some of the other less discreet brokers in their organization. Akaashi was the main person you wanted in dealings with the Owls, mainly because he was the only one who wasn't a person. He was all business. Moniwa liked business with androids. 

“What are you trying to sell, honestly?” The administrator, Yukie, sighed. “This may be neutral ground, but _you_ and _us_ stick out pretty bad. Plus, you always act a little bit too _interested_ in Akaashi,” she noted lazily as Moniwa eyed up Akaashi’s chassis. He knew very little about its origins, but also knew he was a “look but don’t touch” model; the brokering organization’s leader would have his head if he tried exploring the insides. 

“Yukie-san. Don’t mind.”

“Interest in an android I didn’t build is normal to me,” Moniwa replied before speaking to Akaashi again. “This is a two-fold trade of information.”

Akaashi crossed his arms. “By which you mean…” 

“Data of interest to certain buyers, but more importantly, a new way to use it. Of interest to any android or mechanic.” Moniwa pulled out a few different drives and chips, and held one in particular.

“‘I’ve got it formatted if you want to use your extra port, Keiji,” He said, with the knowledge that Akaashi was fitted with more than a slot for a simple activation key. What was more secure for a buyer and seller of information than carrying data in ones’ own body? 

“Pervy,” Yukie commented. 

“What’s its value?” Akaashi asked, as usual, ignoring Moniwa’s hints of interest in how he was assembled and worked. He simply wasn’t programmed to respond to that. 

“I recently replaced the 1st and 2nd in command for the Crows. You know of them.” 

“Not that they had died,” Akaashi replied. Yukie made a soft noise. 

"We like all the Strays, it's why we made them agree we wouldn't sell either side weapons intel," she said, her usual lazy tone a bit sad. "When was this?"

Moniwa looked blank for a second. He had androids to know the date. Akaashi and Yukie looked perplexed before he finished thinking.

"Bodies were collected 7 days ago. Sugawara and Sawamura were conscious 4, 5 days ago. The Crows who came with them departed with them before sunrise the next day." He hadn’t slept much in the time, too busy with the new personality construction methodology and copying the contents of the device and book Shimizu provided him with. 

"What a story. How generic are their personalities with that turnaround? You are not so sociable, Moniwa-san, that I would assume you know the scrappers personally." Despite his other interests in Akaashi and what made him work on the inside, Moniwa didn’t appreciate an android that alternated so fast between respectful formality and more… impolite backchat, but refrained from commenting

“The fast turnaround is part of it. They’re completely different kinds of androids than any others I’ve worked on. I had full access to the strategic archives and member profiles the Crows have been compiling for years, instead of the primitive questionnaires and flaws -- and limits -- of verbal description. I integrated video and audio samples to build around into the wetware and hardware long-term storage. The new Sugawara, the new Sawamura… some original memories can exist in some form. They respond to their former relationships -- they lose much less. Acclimation was hours with the presence of a known ally. In contrast, Shirabu Kenjirō assisted the structuring of Tendou Satori and Ushijima Wakatoshi, and neither could independently recall him.” He shoved the problems with Futakuchi out of his head for the time being. “Media makes the mind more. And I had access to a great deal.” 

“There’s data about both gangs since their founding, topographical maps, information about the weaponry currently in use, records of what was scavenged where and when… There are hundreds of video files showcasing the Crows, no doubt desirable to some. ”

This caught Akaashi’s attention. “And they just let you walk off with it,” he said, skeptically. 

“They were desperate enough to grant access, so I had the files transfer and the book scan while I was working. Fully captured to shop around to any information broker whose logical processes aren’t malfunctioning," Moniwa replied. "You think I wouldn't at least keep it on hand?"

Yukie gave him a rude hand gesture and spouted some invective until Akaashi raised an arm to stop her. "Have some sense," he said, gesturing. The mediators nearby were taking particular interest at that. She lowered her hand. 

"I'll buy it,” Akaashi said. “There’s often interest in what the scrappers are up to, and Bokuto-san will be amused,” he said, referring to the leadership. That was the only irrational tick Moniwa had noticed in his software’s decision-making routines -- it held priority on actions that would benefit, one way or another, specifically Bokuto. He took the chip, pulled his arm out of his jacket, and clicked it into one of several ports hidden under the silicon skin. 

“Standard initial payment for this by volume, since there’s no specific client at this time requesting information on the Crows,” he said. Moniwa knew the drill. If data happened to match an open request for relevant information, it would garner a premium. “We’ll analyze the transcriptions and media logs to see if any are relevant to current requests and transfer applicable premiums upon complete assessment.”

“It’d be sensible to try to acquire more faction archives. Perhaps you’re already planning to do that, however,” Akaashi flicked his inky gaze at Moniwa, who gave him that pointed, closed-lipped smile of his.

“Well, knowledge is power, and power keeps the batteries humming, Keiji,” he said, content enough to speak more casually. “I’d require leads, or at least excuses, to get access though. I’m not a spy of particularly stealthy capabilities,” he admitted. “The best I can do right now is compile information I already have, much of which must be out of date. And that relevant to Sasaya and Kamachi is all I have or will provide to you on my end,” he said firmly. The archives for his androids and the goings-on at the Wall were as comprehensive as they were indecipherably obscured. Sometimes, he himself would temporarily lock himself out of the past.

"Would you like to be tipped in the form of a lead?" Akaashi said, removing the chip and handing it to Yukie, who then initiated a payment order, tapping something on a device, before she handed it back to re-insert for safekeeping. Outside the infrastructure-heavy outposts like the Castle and the Wall, these second-life-given-towns had the bulk of the wireless transfer capabilities. Outside it was enough of a drain to keep the water clean and power vehicles, much less charge androids or engage in formal commerce. Moniwa knew one didn’t expect cash from a crow or a cat, so the alternative bartering suited him out there. Cash was nice for some things, however. “You know where to collect it,” she said. 

“That's fine, but what’s this about a lead?”

“The Castle would be a valuable archive, and we have regular requests pertaining to them. And it seems possible their ranking members just below the most senior may want your services.” 

Moniwa was quite alert upon hearing that. "Why?".

"Quite recently, they’ve been receiving single-minded attacks from roving mercenaries. Their Mad Dog, their most dangerous solo operative, was cut down by the Band of White's de facto leaders-- congrats on giving Semi Eita his partner in crime back,” Akaashi said dryly. “In their disgrace after the initial disarray which led Shirabu-san to you he’s received a handful of sobriquets -- Unchained Swan, White Death -- while those unfamiliar with androids have fallen on stories of vengeful monsters, yokai, and undead to explain Tendou Satori’s bloody reappearance in their fold. The readdition of Shirabu-san or Ushiwaka would make them significantly deadlier.” Moniwa made a mental note to modify incoming and outgoing security procedure. He needed Shirabu, anyway. 

“No doubt intended for Kyoutani -- the Mad Dog -- the Grand King’s presumed successor has within the last 48 hours secretly placed inquiries into seeking services like yours, while publicly supporting the leadership. They don't deal with androids under the current direction. Period. But this method you used could be very enticing… It could be enough to create a schism and power struggle.” 

“It’d be good for business as everyone scrambled to bet on who’d ultimately lead,” Yukie pointed out. “And you’d be able to prove this concept again.” 

Moniwa grinned. "if that isn't a good data acquisition opportunity… so who is the heir apparent?"

"The 2nd-rank called Yabaha Shigeru. I can provide a photo and peer-to-peer contact for you, as part of this tip. You should move with caution however,” Akaashi advised, “The leaderless swords, the Grand King, and the company of scrappers you just betrayed the intel of all have a history of grudges among themselves,” he said. 

Moniwa raised his index finger to his lips. “The more one sees, the less one says, the less one says, the more is heard. I can trust your discretion, wise old bird?” He said, almost playfully. Akaashi maintained his neutral expression, while Yukie rolled her eyes.

“The crow is never satisfied to eat its prey in silence, and there is no room in a castle for two kings,” Akaashi replied. “We keep no names of information merchants we deal with, but the more you provide us with, the more that information is purchased for use, the more obvious your identity. Keep that in mind.” 

“I’ll be fine. If I can perfect this media-modeled memory, I can always bring the dead back, so my life’s value will retain itself. If the Unchained Swan has accepted an android, then Benkei could accept Ushiwaka by his side again -- and even with my research and further examples, none will deny death like me. Thank you. I’ll be attending to my other business, good day.” He bowed slightly and walked closer towards the building on the grounds. 

“He’s stone-cold crazy,” Yukie said once he was out of earshot. 

“If we could find that android and human he’s looking for, we’d be done like that,” Akaashi replied. “But he’s also too good not to contact for mechanic requests. I don't stay with self-repair for fun or out of high quality results, Yukie-san.” 

“Every time he looks at you it’s like his mind is trying to figure out how to break you down,” she said. “Well, let’s get back. Like you said, Bo’ will at least find candids of the Crows fun.” 

\------

Moniwa walked up to a dark haired man with thin eyes in the mediators signature black and white. He was fiddling with something. 

“Engineer. Called about ‘Samu, then?” 

“I had a meeting and realized I hadn’t come for quite some time. Is he in?” 

He pointed the half-whittled ash branch in his hands. “Should be in the first chamber with Kita. Just a reminder,” he added, “Try not to provoke Atsumu if you see him.” 

“I never have to try, Rin-chan!” He said, with a slight hint of mockery. It was true, though.

Kita Shinsuke, the organizational head of the mediation membership, was sipping from a bowl, while Miya Osamu, the reason Moniwa would engage with the fox-like overseers at all, sat across from him with nothing in front of him on the table. Their robes were black and white like their uniforms when on duty, though Kita had a maroon haori draped over his shoulders. Moniwa found it aggressively old-fashioned, styling so outdated -- and impractical outside the towns -- it was obscure to most people, but never commented on that. 

“Ah, Moniwa Kaname,” Kita nodded to him. “May I offer you a meal?”

Moniwa bowed his head before kneeling at the table. He had a formal face for certain people, and it was generally accepted that do not reject an offer from the mediators. “You are quite generous. I will gladly have some, if it is not an imposition.” Then he looked at Osamu, who was looking at him with pupil-less eyes. 

“I thought it was overdue for someone to check with you ‘Samu.” 

“The thought’s appreciated. You were here to meet the brokers, too, though,” the other pointed out. “Aran saw. Not our business though.” 

“As we have no engineers among us, this is always appreciated, Moniwa-san,” Kita said, as one of the others -- Moniwa rarely bothered to learn every name he heard -- set out a few dishes, which were by most standards indulgent; they grew produce on some of the land, and even could augment their diets sometimes with offerings of thanks of clean, fresh eggs, fish, or meat from local residents grateful they maintained the neutrality of the fighters, the scrappers, the vagrants, the brokers, and the mechanist madmen like Moniwa. Moniwa’s own attempts to grow food were less successful, enclosed and with roots halted by concrete floors below. 

“Thank you for this food,” he said, and found it deeply satisfying. Androids simply… didn’t cook like humans. It was the one thing he liked about them. 

“Don’t choke, but if you’re here to assess me, being quick would be a good plan,” Osamu drawled. 

“Is your brother in a bad mood today?” 

“I’m just trying to be considerate of your windpipe. I’m assuming having it pinned under someone’s knee is painful. I wouldn’t know,” he offered. Osamu’s dry wit seemed to have evolved into a harshly bitter one. 

“It was, if you’re curious.” 

“Moniwa-san is a guest, and Atsumu will have to remember that,” Kita said. He was an ultimate mediator, and Moniwa supposed he had to respect the willpower that must take, considering how quickly he personally would turn to an android, a weapon, or fear to solve a problem. 

Moniwa thought for a moment. “... I have a new method I’m developing,” he said, and explained to the two his most recent work. 

“Those two were human more recently than me, though,” Osamu pointed out. “I wouldn’t just remember being a human out of nowhere. It wouldn’t convince him.” 

“It’s a good endeavor, but Atsumu is Atsumu,” Kita agreed. Aran sat down across from Moniwa. 

“You mean stubborn.” 

“Aran, you accept Osamu as Osamu? Didn’t you know each other as children?” Truth be told, Moniwa couldn’t remember if this was the right person, and internally was relieved when the bulkier man nodded firmly. 

“Yea, this is definitely him in my opinion. One half of a whole pain in the ass,” he playfully punched Osamu’s arm, and the android cracked a smirk. 

“Doesn’t he deserve to be seen as a brother?” Moniwa appealed. The others were quiet for a minute. 

“They aren’t twins anymore,” Aran said. Osamu’s shoulders sagged. “We don’t die in skirmishes like people on the edges such as yours,” he said. Moniwa felt a bit dizzy, suddenly, before that passed. He wanted to say the lost humans of his were a bit more complex than that. He refrained, however.

“I can’t say he’s not harsh, but even five, or ten years from now…” Osamu gloomily added. 

“... But he’s the one who asked you to be born,” Moniwa said in anger. He paused, apologizing only to have Kita excuse the outburst. 

“I feel that most people are not as well-suited to grow old with androids as you, Moniwa-san,” Kita said, sipping tea another --- Ginjima? -- had poured for after the meal. 

Growing old. What a specific concept to be an obstacle. Moniwa had always felt like the most adult among them, so what did it matter if the others perpetually felt younger? They’d be with him longer. The ones who didn’t work -- well, maybe he could try again. People could be rebuilt again and again. Someday, some year, they wouldn't break. 

“ -- Let me just check Osamu over, and I’ll return another date if any work is needed.” He was in fine condition, actually, clearly quite well cared for by both himself and his comrades. As Moniwa excused himself, he saw Atsumu posted towards the high, old stone stairs leading up to the neutral zone. He walked up behind the blonde quietly. 

“... If you were to fall down these stairs, your body mangled, blood pooling inside your skull, neck snapped... your only chances would let you be twins with Osamu forever,” he murmured as he stepped so close the other instinctively took a step closer to the edge in surprise. “The window is shortening before the age starts showing in your face.”

“Ah, it’s the old bionic butcher!” Atsumu proclaimed upon turning. “Should I take that as a threat? I’d be dead no matter what.” 

“I was just observing,” Moniwa said nonchalantly. “You were the one who broke with your own clan tradition and in your grief had Osamu brought back and refined by several engineers,” Moniwa said severely. “It’s made servicing the chassis an obstacle course, the fingerprints identifying who created or modified what smudged. And here it is, he’s been accepted by the others while you spurn your brother.” 

“He isn’t my brother.” 

“Then you never had one. Tell me, when did you dye your hair the first time?”

“What?” 

“Does it matter what hair color your twin has to be your twin?” 

Atsumu looked increasingly aggravated. “That damn well isn’t the point,” he spat. "I chose to dye it." 

"And you chose for him that he would live again. Is that fairness?" Moniwa pointed out. Atsumu fell quiet

“I can insert mirrored memories into two cores with unique personalities. But I have enough work and no incentive to try to convince you to have me grant you a way to be with your twin forever, but you can take responsibility for your selfishness and care for him as he is now. He will never hunger again, but he’s hungry nonetheless. Admit you are the one prolonging his hunger.” Atsumu looked stricken, offended, confused, while Moniwa just looked at a watch band. Akaashi had transferred his tip to him. He walked past the twin, down the stairs, putting an earpiece in. 

"I've had enough of these little people," he murmured to himself. "They're discomforting." 

“Ah, hello, Yahaba Shigeru…? I was directed to an inquiry regarding engineers… I have a new process for creating more faithful android replicas, and I believe I have the discretion you require ...” 

Suna walked up, seeing Atsumu’s clenched fist. “He had something to say to you, huh?” 

“If I ever commit my soul to one of those shells, it better be a strong one,” Atsumu said through gritted teeth. “Because once he gave me and ‘Samu memories we used to share, I’d beat him to a pulp.” 

“It almost sounds like you’re warm to the idea.” 

“Shut it.”


End file.
